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TO   THE   LIGHTHOUSE

disinherit her if she married him, said Mr.
Ramsay. He did not look at the flowers, which his
wife was considering, but at a spot about a foot or
so above them. There was no harm in him, he
added, and was just about to say that anyhow he
was the only young man in England who admired

his------when he choked it back.   He would not

bother her again about his books. These flowers
seemed creditable, Mr. Ramsay saids lowering his
gaze and noticing something red, something
brown. Yes, but then these she had put in with
her own hands, said Mrs. Ramsay, The question
was, what happened if she sent bulbs down; did
Kennedy plant them? It was his incurable lazi-
ness; she added, moving on. If she stood over
him all day long with a spade in her hand, he did
sometimes do a stroke of work. So they strolled
along, towards the red-hot pokers. " You're
teaching your daughters to exaggerate," said Mr.
Ramsay, reproving her. Her Aunt Camilla was
far worse than she was, Mrs. Ramsay remarked.
" Nobody ever held up your Aunt Camilla as a
model of virtue that I'm aware of," said Mr.
Ramsay. " She was the most beautiful woman I
ever saw," said Mrs, Ramsay, " Somebody else
was that," said Mr. Ramsay. Prue was going to
be far more beautiful than she was, said Mrs.
Ramsay* He saw no trace of it, said Mr. Ramsay.
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